


Snow Angels

by TakeASadSongAndMakeItBetter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cold Weather, Destiel Oneshot, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, My First Fanfic, Snow, Stars, human!Cas, tiny bit of smutiness?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:21:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2416409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeASadSongAndMakeItBetter/pseuds/TakeASadSongAndMakeItBetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas' favorite part of being human is the snow.<br/>But his constant absence when the snowflakes start to fall worries the overprotective Dean...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever, so if you make it to the bottom (and I'll love you forever if you do) please leave some comments! I'd love to know how I can do better next time! Enjoy, my friends :D

The old steel door of the bunker swung loudly shut. _Dammit Cas,_ Dean thought, leaning on the kitchen counter with one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. It hadn’t been long since the ex-angel had showed up at their doorstep, hungry and confused and strangely- human.

 In all the years Cas had watched humanity with awed detachment, he never imagined how hard it would be to become one of them. So when he knocked upon their door, the brothers took him in and tried their best to show him the ropes of humanity. Cas would paste on a smile and thank them sheepishly every time one of them told him to ”use less toothpaste” or “check the milk before you drink it,” but he was taking the blow of losing his power hard. He rarely ate; the little sleep he got was restless and full of vivid nightmares. Dean would often wake to Cas’ muffled cries and rush into the darkened bedroom next to his, knife in hand. The seasoned hunter was ready in an instant to gank anything that would want to hurt the dark-haired man.

 At the sight of Dean filling his doorway, tensed and ready for battle, his grey robe slung halfway off his shoulder in his haste, Cas would just smile sadly in the way he always did when things got bad, and tell the protective man to go back to sleep.

 It was snowing again, the leaves fallen and weather turned cold. When times like these came around, Cas would go out all alone, wrapped in all of Dean’s coats and gloves, his favorite blue hat endearingly lopsided on the top of his head.

Hours later he would return, smiling a little, his cheeks and nose flushed with a light pink. It was the only time Cas seemed to enjoy his newfound humanity.

             But today was different. Today, when Cas had walked sluggishly into the kitchen, decorated in his usual layered attire, his blue eyes dulled and ringed with dark half-circles from lack of sleep, Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He couldn’t watch his best friend go through this alone.

           “Cas what’s- what’s wrong?” he mentally slapped himself. That was the broadest and most idiotic question he could possibly ask. “I mean,” he corrected himself, shaking his head, “you’re human now, and I know that’s rough, but you can’t go on like this. Listen,” Dean said, trying and failing to avoid the impending chick-flick moment, “I know all about the nightmares, about how you can’t close your eyes without seeing them.” He squeezed his shut as images from his own dark dreams flooded his mind, “Just,” he sighed, ”just tell me how I can help you.”

             Cas cast his blue eyes to the ground. “I used to be able to see them, Dean.”

             “See what, Cas?”

             “The stars,” Cas almost whispered it.

             Dean faltered a little. “You can still see them now- at night, when we turn off the bunker’s lights and watch them in the dark,” he consoled, rubbing Cas’s shoulder soothingly. He ignored the sparks of electricity this generated. “We’ll do it tonight, Cas, I promise.”

            “No- no you don’t understand,” Cas mumbled, shaking his head at the ground as if it was a child who had disappointed him, “When I was an angel I saw the galaxies in their entirety, swirling and bursting with pure energy and brilliance,” his eyes suddenly shone with wonder at the remembrance, ”I would stand on their surfaces and breathe in their heat; bask in their pure, concentrated… _life_.”

  His face suddenly darkened. “But now I look up into the sky which I used to travel, at the atmosphere I am now trapped under, and I see another chance for the nightmares to paralyze me. I stare into a dark void waiting to swallow me.” His eyes locked onto Dean’s. “I look into the faces of the humans who are now my equals, and where I used to see a soul, burning bright and beautiful, I see the very flesh that binds me.” His voice was shaking now, tears threatening to escape the corners of his eyes.

 “I’m no angel, Dean.”

And with that, he was gone.

<><><><><> 

The door of the bunker slammed shut behind Cas with a tone of finality, leaving him alone in the cold again. The frosty air rushed to his face, nipping at his cheeks and nose, its long, cold fingers aiming to splatter the exposed skin with red splotches. The freezing wind whispered forcefully into his ear like a rough playmate as he carefully climbed the stairs leading to the road. Once, when he had first arrived, he had made the mistake of rushing up these very steps, eager to get away from the confining walls of the bunker he now called home. He had overlooked the fact that they were still slick with ice from the night’s freeze. The resulting broken ankle had taken three months and six bottles of Ibuprofen to heal.

Now he reached the top with little difficulty.

Cas started down the road. He loved the way the snow crunched satisfyingly underneath the too-big boots when he walked, how the heavy shoes left Dean’s imprint in the crushed snow behind him. As he wandered a little ways down the road, he gazed gently at the world around him.

 _It’s as if things are purer this way,_ he thought, staring with kind eyes at the gray clouds above him. They seemed content with the notion of pouring themselves out upon him in small flurries. It reminded him of Dean. Cas had poured himself out on the hunter in the same way, until nothing was left of him but a broken down human.

He pushed away the thought. _How lovely the snow is,_ he marveled. _It’s almost like the white of the heavens covers and blotches out all that could be considered evil._

Suddenly, something snapped inside of him. It was like a dark veil being whipped out from over his eyes, the long forgotten light blinding him in a not so unpleasant way.

At that moment, he understood. Sure, being human meant no wings, no galaxies, no greater plan, but it also meant snow and hats and warmth and Dean. It meant the cold on his ears and snow in his hair. It meant hurt and pain but most of all _love._ Love for the earth and the Impala and the Winchesters.

Love for the man who he had saved from hell all those years ago.

Overwhelmed with a strange joy, Cas laughed and spread his thickly covered arms to the generous sky.

<><><><><>

 _Damn, what’s taking him so long?_ Dean thought as he paced the bunker floor. Sam had gone to check on something having to do with the hunt, while Dean stayed behind, explaining he had to wait for Cas to get back. Sam had just given him a knowing and slightly smug look before closing the bunker door gently behind him, leaving Dean with nothing to do but worry about them. Dozens of anxious questions swirled through his mind like snowflakes, all gravitating towards the missing angel. _He’s usually back by now. What if he’s gotten himself hurt? What if the other angels found him? Oh God. What if he’s gone for good?_

 _What if I’ve lost him?_

That’s it no more of this bullshit.

Dean reached for his jacket on the coat hook near the door as he moved to open it, but found only air where his coat should be. He remembered Cas’ fondness for the old thing. _Damn,_ he thought again. The word seemed to be one of his favorites lately.

Anyway, at least Cas was warm, wherever he was. 

Dean glanced warily at the door; felt the cold metal beneath his hands. The hunter might be out there searching for a long time if Cas had gone far. And pneumonia was nothing to joke about, not when they’re trying to lay so low.

But Cas was out there, he remembered as a flash of blue pierced his mind’s eye. 

Screw it.

He dived into the cold, wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt and his trademark jeans. The freezing air attacked the elder Winchester at every exposed piece of skin, ripping through his clothing and into his bones, cooling his blood at an alarming rate, but he didn’t care.

Because as soon as he heard the bunker’s steel door close for the second time that day, he looked up and drew in a short, shocked breath.

There in front of him stood the greatest man he had ever known, arms spread to the stormy sky.

Snowflakes landed softly in the dark hair that peeked out of Cas’ blue hat and on his slender shoulders. They covered his head and stuck to his dark eyelashes like salt from a particularly demanding hunt. He must have been so cold, but the look of sheer bliss on his face told Dean that the other man didn’t care about the temperature in the slightest.

He stared, awestruck. As he looked at Cas, Dean saw everything he ever wanted and everything he ever needed, right there compacted into one man.

Cas was… _beautiful._  

Suddenly, Cas’ soft eyes opened and locked onto Dean’s, startlingly blue against the pure white. And suddenly, Dean couldn’t remember how to breathe. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Dean’s legs were taking him closer, walking shakily at first, but moving faster and faster until he was running towards Cas at full speed. The always-present entity ripped through his hair; it froze his limbs and smacked his cheeks with invisible consistency, but Dean didn’t care.

He grabbed Cas by the lapels of the stolen jacket and slammed his lips ferociously and desperately into the other man’s.

<><><><><> 

Cas stood, tense for a moment in shock. He could feel the warmth of Dean’s lips against his own, the heat of his lightly dressed body through the layers of clothing they shared. He felt the slight ache of Dean's nose scrunched up against his cheek. It felt too real to be a dream, too physical to be a hallucination, so Cas gave up and gave in to the man he had loved for so long. 

He melted into Dean’s touch.

Dean slid his bare arms into Cas’ stolen coat to keep them warm, wrapping the strong limbs around Cas’ slender frame. Cas continued to slide his pinkened lips against Dean's chapped ones in a way that made the hunter's insides turn to goo; brought electricity into his quicked bloodstream. Cas ran his fingers through the other man’s light hair, letting out a small gasp when Dean moved his attention to Cas’ jawline and neck.

 “Dean-“ he moaned weakly, mouth now achingly free, “Dean listen-“

“What?” Dean mumbled between kisses.

“You’ll- you’ll get a cold.”

 Dean's chuckle was muffled against Cas’ neck.

“I don’t care.”

 Dean kissed him harder and harder, swiping his tongue into Cas’ mouth and running his fingers up and down the layers of clothing Cas was wearing. His hands stopped for a moment at the hem of his shirt and hitched it up so he could run his fingers along the exposed skin there. Cas shivered, but not because of the cold. The inexperienced new human clumsily kissed back with all the passion he could muster.

Suddenly, Cas broke away.

“I- I love you,” he gasped.

The elder Winchester beamed and stared into those haunting blue eyes. _Damn, this is so clique_ , he thought, and brought his lips back down onto Cas’.

“I love you too,” Dean whispered against Cas’ mouth.

They didn’t need the coat to keep warm anymore. 

<><><><><> 

That night, Dean shut all the lights of the bunker off and led Cas gently to the hood of the Impala.

 “You’re gonna love it, Cas,” he said excitedly, “They’re so brilliant at night. Sometimes, when we were kids and Dad had left us alone for days at a time, I would drive Sammy into the countryside just for this,” Dean had laid a blanket carefully upon the hood and climbed up onto it. Cas followed in close pursuit, settling on the cover beside him. As the dark haired man snuggled into the hunter’s side, Dean wrapped the soft fabric around their shoulders, making sure his love was safe from the cold.

 “We’d fall asleep watching them pinpoint the sky like diamonds.”

<><><><><> 

Cas watched, breathless, as beautiful Dean pointed at the beautiful sky, explaining in his own beautiful way the order and mystery of this beautiful universe.

  _The stars_ , Cas decided with a smile, kissing Dean’s flushed cheek _, look much better from below._


End file.
